


Useless

by Higgystar



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:45:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from the kink meme: Daryl finds a kitten in the woods when he is younger, Merle curses his soft spot for his baby brother when he gives in and lets him keep it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Useless

Merle knows his baby brother is far too soft to be a Dixon. The boy is scraggly for his age, skinny and weak no matter how much Merle tries to fatten him up and help him bulk out. Sure he hasn’t been around all the time lately, but whenever he is there he tries to make sure Daryl gets his fill. He doesn’t pick on his brother out of hatred, it’s more to train the boy up, the world out there hated folk like them and better Daryl learnt how to cope with that now than later. Merle knew he could toughen his brother up some how, and sometimes there was progress, and then there were times like this.

“The fuck is that thing?”

Daryl looks up from the couch to look at him and Merle can see the way his brother tightens his hold on the thing until it squeaks in terror. Throwing his bag to the side he sneers at the puny thing, wondering exactly where the fuck Daryl had got it and why the hell it was here instead of being left wherever it had been. “’s a kitten. I found him in the woods.” His brother replies and it’s only the beers taking the edge off his anger that stops Merle from smacking him about the head.

“It’s a fuckin’ runt.” He snorts, leaning over to poke at the kitten, feeling its ribs easily, the damned thing was a bag of bones. Its fur was covered in dirt, its tail was crooked and one of its ears looked like it had been ripped or torn on the edges. Damn thing was a mess, not worth their time. “Best drown the thing and put it out of its misery.”

“I ain’t doing that!” Daryl snaps, clinging to the squirming beast and inching down the couch away from Merle’s prodding fingers. He hates when he gets like this, acting like nothing more than a little brat despite being many years past that and heading towards adulthood. Sometimes Merle thinks it had been a lot easier before Daryl could talk.

Holding out a hand he watches as his baby brother squirms in his seat, eyes already bright with want and looking to Merle as if he were a monster for even suggesting such a thing. “Then give it here and I’ll do it.” He offers, not willing to give in because Daryl had taken a liking to a stray.

“Fuck no Merle, it’s just a baby.” His brother can be one stubborn little bitch when he wants to and Merle can feel his temper starting to flare. He’s more patient with Daryl than anyone else, but that doesn’t mean sometimes he wants to pummel the little shit into the ground.

“So what? You gonna keep it?” Merle barks out a laugh at the thought, his voice already louder than usual due to the alcohol and watching as Daryl looks down to the kitten with sympathy. “Boy you can barely look after yourself let alone a fucking kitten. It’s momma probably knew it was gonna die and left it out, let nature takes its course. Ain’t nothing you can do for the thing.”

With that he feels the discussion is over, and turns to ignore Daryl and the still mewling thing he’s clinging to. Wouldn’t do the boy no good to have a pet anyway, pets needed caring for and they got you attached, couldn’t give you anything and just took everything they could. Daryl didn’t need to be dragged down by that and besides, the boy needed to toughen up, not coddle to a fucking cat.

“I wanna keep him.” Daryl’s voice is small, but determined and when he continues his voice is louder, with a strength and want behind it that Merle hasn’t heard before. Daryl is mad, not quite yelling but close enough and his words are almost spat across the room to him. “What do you care? You ain’t never here anyway.”

Merle gives a grunt in response to that. He can’t disagree with the statement, but he doesn’t want to admit it either. Daryl continues to pet the mangy thing, letting it purr brokenly in his arms and rest against his chest. It’s stupid to keep the thing, it would be dead in a few days and then Daryl would be upset over it. But maybe it would help toughen the boy up to go through it dying. Besides, he’d been a few years younger than Daryl when he’d had a newborn sibling to look after, maybe a cat wouldn’t be so hard.

But still, a fucking cat. Not a pitbull or anything with some power behind it, but a fucking cat. Daryl is watching him again, staring up at him with those baby blues and fuck Merle reckons he wouldn’t even be considering it if he hadn’t had those drinks before coming home. But his baby brother knows how to work him, always had since he was little and it’s not long before there’s a pout on Daryl’s lips and he’s hugging at the kitten, watching Merle and looking so desperate for a chance.

When Daryl speaks again his voice is completely different from the last time, there’s no anger, instead he’s quiet, voice pleading in that way that almost breaks Merle’s heart whenever he hears it when he goes to leave. “Please Merle.” Every other time he has to shake his head and say no, walk away from Daryl and their shithead of a father for fear of killing the other man.

This time he gives a loud sigh, glaring at the mouldy ceiling as if he was being forced into it before responding. “It’s gotta earn its keep if it’s gonna stay.”

Daryl doesn’t say thanks, but Merle can see how he tries to hide his grin, keeping the kitten close and standing up to press against Merle’s side in what would be a hug if it were anyone else. Merle huffs, pushing the clingy brat away and heading to the fridge for a beer. It wasn’t often he gave in to his brother, and he hates to admit that whenever he does he knows it takes Daryl that one step back from being the man he needs to be to get by. A part of him doesn’t give a shit, when Daryl smiles and pets the kitten, scratching behind it’s ragged ear he figures it’s worth it for now.

It seems now his brother has what he wants, he can’t shut up about the damned thing and Merle finds himself dragged into a conversation about the fucking cat. “I’ll train him to be a top ratter. Keep them away from the house and the still, dad’s always complaining about them getting into the supplies. He’ll earn his place Merle, you’ll see.” The brat keeps grinning to him, too old to be a kid, not old enough to be an adult, but stuck in those awkward years in between and clinging to a kitten as if it were the best thing in the world.

Rolling his eyes a little he slumps down on the couch beside his brother, peering over at the skinny little thing and the kitten on his chest. “Thing’s gonna die Daryl, it’s useless.”

Shrugging in reply Daryl continues petting the tiny thing, his fingers brushing over wiry dirt covered fur and smiling to himself as the tv blares on with some kind of sports event. Neither of them are watching it, but the background noise makes the time pass easier in the summer heat. “Nah he ain’t.” Merle takes a swig of his beer and wonders if they’re going to have to have a funeral for the damned thing.

The kitten doesn’t die, it’s not a particularly good ratter and Daryl names it Useless.

Merle swears the fucking thing knows he don’t like it and takes the chance to piss him off every time he comes home to crash for a few days. The mangy kitten grows into a grotty looking cat, with fur that’s not quite the same length all over, an ear that won’t stand up right and into a dirty grey colour with smudges of white on its paws. It’s the most poor excuse for a cat that Merle has ever seen, but Daryl adored the damned thing and though he’d sometimes scruff it and throw it out for the night, he never had the heart to get rid of it completely.

Useless was a lot like his baby brother, scraggly and quiet unless he wanted something, able to fight in a scrap and sleep anywhere possible. The only real difference was that Daryl could actually hunt, whereas the cat was scared of everything that moved. Merle is amazed every time he shows up and the cat is still there, with no money for medicine if it got sick or any jabs that it ‘needed’ he’d thought it wouldn’t have lasted a year.

Sometimes he wondered if it carried on living just to prove him wrong.

He’d pull up on his bike and find the thing usually glaring at him from the roof, his favourite lookout spot in the summer sun, rolling about and watching him before leaping down. The fucking thing had a habit of following him around whenever he showed up, rubbing up against his legs and trying to climb in his lap whenever he sat down. Didn’t seem to matter how many times he went to kick the thing Useless kept wanting his attention. Honestly the cat was becoming more and more like Daryl every time he came back.

It hates their dad, hisses and spits at him if he so much as goes near it. Merle is impressed with that part. Especially when Daryl is going to be on the receiving end of a punch and Useless is on his lap, bristling and growling, claws extended but not digging in as he reaches out to go for their dad’s hand. He has to admit for a fucking pussy the cat had balls when it mattered. Yet it never so much as looked funny at Daryl, instead purring constantly when in his baby brother’s presence, sprawling on his shoulders around the house and even sleeping in Daryl’s bed.

Merle can see how much his brother is attached to the damned thing. He’s constantly petting it, feeding it some of his own meal even when they ain’t got a lot and the cat could fend for itself if it wanted to. Daryl lets it rub all over him, getting fur here there and everywhere, mewling and pawing at him for attention when it wants it and never being denied. He swears he’s heard his little brother even talking to the damned thing sometimes.

The years go on and every time Merle comes home the cat is there, following on his heels through the door and rubbing all over his legs with a mewl until it finds Daryl and more affection. He sees as Daryl grows into an adult, his body filling out properly and gaining muscle from all the hunting. He’s still lean, and small compared to Merle, but he always had been anyway, and besides it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle himself nowadays. The cat curls on Daryl’s shoulders and licks behind his ear with a purr and sometimes Merle figures letting the cat stay hadn’t been too bad a choice. Especially not when he sees Daryl smile beneath the bruises.

Slumped on the couch he watches as Daryl makes more bolts for his crossbow at the other end, the store is too expensive and they’d stolen too much from that place to remain ignored if they went back. Useless sits beside his master, rubbing against Daryl’s arm and purring whenever he’s petted. The thing must be fucking old now for a cat, Merle would have thought it would have snuffed it years ago, but it’s still going with barely any teeth left and no sight in one eye.

Useless crosses the couch to come annoy him, sniffing at the beer in his hand and not even flinching when he raises his hand in response. The fucking thing is too used to it to care anymore and Merle respects that. He pets the thing roughly, hearing its purr break a little in its throat before it sprawls between the two of them, lying on the couch with its head on Merle’s thigh and tail twitching against Daryl’s arm.

Sure the cat was still fucking useless and had never earned its keep, maybe it hadn’t turned out as Merle had thought but he figured it was good enough really. Useless mewls next to them and Daryl automatically reaches down to pet his head, not even having to look to find the cat beside him. Merle still doesn’t like the cat, but Daryl does and he supposes that maybe it was all right for him to be a soft hearted bastard every so often if it made his baby brother happy.


End file.
